


Pass a Fag

by Androids_in_Metropolis



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Harry smokes, M/M, but i had to write this idea down, draco is cute and in lipstick, draco smokes, i'll do a better one later, it's pretty, this sucks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 17:06:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5634988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Androids_in_Metropolis/pseuds/Androids_in_Metropolis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco is sad, and so he smokes. Harry is stressed, and so he hides.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pass a Fag

**Author's Note:**

> this is pretty bad, but i really needed the idea written down for my own enjoyment~ I'll try to write a better version later :) Just imagine Lucky Blue Smith in Lipstick and Daniel Radcliff if he were gangly and looked like a druggie :)

Draco’s hands were shaking as he lifted the thin, cylindrical tube of paper to his lips. The muggle invention-The cigarette-calmed his shaking nerves. His back was pressed against the cool marble wall of ‘moaning’ Myrtle's bathroom. He could see his own reflection in the rank mirror across from him; He was barely there, nearly blending in with the white wall but for his piercing eyes and bright red (painted) lips. He would stand out in a crowd, but here against the dampness and the white he was just another fixture in the broken down toilet. 

He blew a thin line of smoke from his shivering lips, noting the red lines on the filter of the cigarette. The lipstick looked like it could have been someone else’s; For a moment he allowed himself to imagine there was someone else...someone beside him here on the floor. That someone and he could share a cigarette, his lipstick could be the other person’s as well...it could have all been real. No, it couldn’t have, he corrected himself. It couldn’t be real...not for him. 

Before he knew what was happening, Draco began to cry. He looked at the ceiling, hoping Myrtle wouldn’t decide to float up from the toilet beside him. It was now his moans that filled the abandoned toilet, bouncing off the walls. Draco had never felt so alone. 

Malfoys didn’t...Malfoy’s had so many rules; So many expectations he could never live up to. A Malfoy had to kill Dumbledore. A Malfoy didn’t wear rouge lips-Not even his mother. A Malfoy was never alone. A Malfoy didn’t fall in love with the wrong people because they could have whomever they wanted. A Malfoy didn’t cry, back against a wall, salty tears mixing with the flavour of nicotine and himself in his mouth. 

He wasn’t worth it; Wasn’t worth the title. Hell, he didn’t even want the title. He didn’t have to do this. He didn’t have to, but he knew he would. He had never been able to let his father down. He had never been able to say no. He had this constant feeling in the pit of his stomach, a feeling that made him desperately want to make his dad happy. Desperately want to make him smile, nod his aloof approval. 

Draco blew the airy, grey smoke through his lips in a puff, grunting as he noted his cigarette was nearly out. He didn’t hesitate to light another, dropping the previous cigarettes remains in a puddle by his feet. 

He heard the soft splashes of feet against water just as he drew in a particularly shuddering sob. He quickly dropped the fag into the puddle at his feet along with the other, drawing his jerseyed arm across his face to try and mop away the worst of the tears. He held his breath. 

“Light me one, would you?” came a soft voice, slightly deeper than Draco’s own and fairly gravelly in texture. The voice didn’t ask why he was crying, or why he was sitting next to puddles in an abandoned, haunted, girl’s bathroom. He didn’t make any snide comment, or sly remark, simply sat beside him and waited to be handed a cigarette. 

Draco snuck a look at the owner of the voice, slowly looking over his shoulder as he passed the other boy a fag. His hands were shaking. 

“I didn’t figure the Golden Boy’d be rotting his lungs,” Draco quipped, trying to find his grounding again as his breath hitched. Harry Potter asking him for a fag when he was like this...his day had reached what should have been an all time low, but instead he was starting to feet better. 

“Need a light?” Harry asked, “And ‘course I can smoke. i got stress too, you know.” He mumbled, lighting the cig between his lips and blowing out softly. 

Draco noted the strain in Harry’s voice. He had always liked Harry, since the first time he had offered his hand in friendship. He had to admit, he had gone about it the right way...over the years their rivalry had grown stronger...more and more like hatred. Here they were though, smoking side by side on the damp marble. 

“Yeah, sure,” Draco mumbled, passing the other boy his cigarette to get a flame touched to it’s pristine white paper. He put the death stick to his lips and took a drag, his lipstick coming off around the filter. He had forgotten he was wearing it…

“Nice colour,” Harry observed, settling against the cool marble with a little groan. “Red’s cool,” he said dumbly, for lack of a better way to explain the feeling that Draco in lipstick aroused within him. The blond...was beautiful-Truly beautiful. 

Draco didn’t reply, resituating himself against the wall. His back was beginning to hurt, but he didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want the warmth radiating off Harry to be extinguished, as he knew it would if he even moved a centimeter, the human interaction feeling strange and foreign after feeling alone so long. He didn’t even mind that it was Potter…

Harry sniffed, pulling in another drag, blowing it out. In. Out. In. Out. In… 

The two boys sat side by side, the hatred that had been building up between them slowly, slowly growing warmer over the many cigs they shared over the coming weeks. After a while they were close...agressive, but close. 

Harry walked out of the bathroom, red smudged on his cheek and a goofy smile on his face. 

Hermione nodded from behind her book. Those two...


End file.
